


Twinkie Loophole

by YouCantKeepMeDown



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demon Deals, Established Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Hellhounds, M/M, Wing Kink, the apocalypse was prevented by talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown/pseuds/YouCantKeepMeDown
Summary: Instead of jumping into the cage Sam and Dean managed to get Michael and Lucifer to talk and establish a truce between Heaven and Hell. That also comes with rules that have to be obeyed when making demon deals. Sometimes Sam acts as defense lawyer for those who got themselves into a bad deal.





	Twinkie Loophole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrs_SimonTam_PHD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for my fake girlfriend Lucibae (a.k.a Mrs_SimonTam_PHD). Happy Birthday! I borrowed Nichole from you. I hope that's okay.
> 
> Thanks to my beta readers coplins, brieflymaximumprincess and askatosch.
> 
> Also a note about this story: Large parts are written from Maggie's point of view, who is the kind of person that typically dies in the first 5 minutes of an SPN episode. But of course when it comes to sex between Sam and Lucifer we're not in her POV any more. (Just in case anyone was worried.)

Maggie is pretty sure she hasn’t taken any drugs, but she keeps seeing things. Like that really ugly and twisted face of the cashier at the supermarket that apparently no one else saw (her freakout almost got her locked away). And she gets the feeling someone is following her. Or something. She can hear a dog breathing sometimes. A fucking huge dog. She can’t see it though.

As if that isn’t enough, Dave is dead. Ripped to shreds, at least that’s what the cops say. And the feds are here because of it. Maggie saw them. Two literal giants, kinda cute actually, though. Especially the bigger one with the floppy hair. She saw him flashing dimples earlier, when he smiled at Dave’s wife to comfort her.

Yeah, Maggie may have kinda stalked the guys. But Dave is dead for fuck’s sake! She needs to know what happened. Dave had shown her how to draw that satanic crap thingy at the crossroad outside town ten years ago and had laughed at her, when she’d screamed, because that red eyed guy had appeared. Stupid fucking Halloween tricks he and his friend had pulled. She’d pretended to make a deal just to show them she wasn’t afraid.

But now she wonders. He had told her he’d made a deal already the night before. And hadn’t he said it was to get Karen to fall in love with him? Well, Karen is a widow now. And Maggie’s ten years are over tomorrow night. And now she wonders … Was it maybe more than a stupid trick? She never figured out how they did it.

She needs to know what happened!

* * *

She finds out, when the Feds come to her to ask questions in the end. They introduce themselves as agent Simmons and agent Frehley. Like, seriously? She informs them that she knows those names and they just shrug and go: “No relation. You can call us Sam and Dean, though.”

Well, whatever.

She ends up telling them everything, because no one could’ve resisted the puppy eyes of the big floppy haired giant. And they end up telling her demons are real.

Well, fuck.

After a while the green eyed one – how fucking green can eyes be, seriously? Wait, it’s Dean, isn’t it? – turns to floppy hair – Sam? – and there seems to be some kind of silent conversation going on that you usually only see between long married couples. 

Finally Sam turns back to her: “So you thought it was all some kind of prank, when you made the deal?”

Maggie nods. “I kissed the guy! I was a bit high and he was kinda cute, you know? But I would never have kissed a fucking demon! That’s gross!”

For some reason, Dean sniggers at that and Sam pulls a face and hisses: “You can shut up right there, Dean!”

Woah. Super gross.

Before they can go into more details, though, Dean turns serious again. “So you think you can build a case based on this, Sammy?”

“Yeah, I can at least try.”

Dean shrugs. “I’m not the one who has to deal with an annoyed boyfriend afterwards. Your call.”

Sam shrugs. “I know how to deal with him, don’t worry.”

“Wait,” Maggie interrupts them, because by now she’s completely lost. Then she catches on, though. “Wait … your boyfriend is a demon?”

Mega gross.

“He’s an angel!” Sam protests.

“He’s Satan himself,” Dean says at the same time.

Okay, that’s exceptionally gross, but by now Maggie feels like there’s nothing that can surprise her any more and knowing Satan’s boyfriend might work to her advantage. “You can talk to him about my deal?” she asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Sam says. “It’s a bit complicated.”

“The short version is ...” Dean leans forward a bit to get her attention. “The apocalypse almost happened a few years ago. It didn’t, because we …”

“We managed to talk them out of it,” Sam takes over again.

Dean snorts. “Yeah … talk …”

“At least I didn’t take the Viceroy of Heaven on a trip through burger joints and seedy bars!” Sam protests.

“Hey, I still think getting him drunk was what did it in the end. Anyway ...” Dean turns back to Maggie, who realizes that she’s staring with her mouth hanging open by now. “You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you?” Maggie says carefully.

“Since then,” Sam takes over again, “we established a kind of truce between Heaven and Hell and some rules regarding demon deals. We can’t completely prevent deals, but if we can argue your crossroad demon broke the rules, we can get you out of your deal.”

That sounds not completely bad. “Okay, that sounds completely crazy,” Maggie says. “But count me in. How are we going to do this?”

* * *

Sitting in a salt circle is not how Maggie has imagined spending her last night on earth. But by now she can definitely hear big dogs howling, so she stays put. The fake FBI agents are wearing glasses that apparently allow them to see hellhounds. Maggie didn’t get a pair.

“Since you got a ticket downstairs,” Dean explains, “you can see everything hell-related without any help.”

Great.

In the meantime Sam is complaining that there isn’t enough time for preparations, whatever it is that he would’ve liked to prepare. He’s right with there being not much time, though. As soon as Maggie is kind of settled in her salt circle, the door to her room explodes and the biggest dog she’s ever seen stands in the doorframe. If it really is a dog. It’s not completely corporal and kind of looks like it’s burning.

“Holy fucking shit!” She stares at the dog, while it snarls and draws closer. Instinctively she flinches back.

“Stay inside the circle!” Dean calls out to her.

Then Sam steps between her and the dog and says: “Stand down!”

To Maggie’s surprise the dog does. It sits back on its haunches and whines. And as if that’s not miraculously enough, Sam reaches out and pats the dog’s head. “Good girl.”

Maggie is almost sure she can see a tail wagging. What the actual hell? She throws Dean a questioning look and gets a tight lipped smile in return. “Told you he’s banging Satan. Comes with a few perks.”

In the meantime Sam is still talking to the giant terrifying hellbeast as if it’s a Yorkshire Terrier or something. “Who’s a good girl? Yes you are! Now go and get me your master, will you? I need to talk to him.”

And off the dog goes.

Maggie doesn’t dare breathe a sigh of relief yet, though.

* * *

She recognizes the demon, when he shows up. Well, she recognizes him after the first shock of seeing his real super ugly demon face. But on the outside that’s the guy she kissed, with his messy brown hair and loopsided smirk. Holy shit, she really kissed a demon! Well, at least she seems to be in really good company with that.

Apparently, though, the demon doesn’t agree he broke the rules. He insist on collecting Maggie’s soul, which is the most scary thing she’s ever heard two people talk about in terms of paragraphs and clauses. Because that’s what they do. Argue like fucking lawyers.

Finally, Sam says: “Shall we take this to a higher level, then?”

The demon literally spits. “You can’t scare me with that. He’ll be annoyed with you as much as he’ll be with me.”

Sam just smirks. “Fine,” he says, and there’s something in his voice now that makes Maggie shudder. That’s the voice of a guy who could probably get away with banging Satan. Then he closes his eyes kind of like he’s praying. “Lucifer. Would you mind settling a case?”

Maggie isn’t sure, if she’s ready for the devil turning up, but it doesn’t look like she got much of a choice.

She expects fire and brimstone and all that, but instead a few seconds later a voice behind her makes her startle.

“Actually I would mind. That’s the third time this month. I have more important things to do, you know.”

Maggie turns around with a little undignified yelp, and then blinks sheepishly at the blond guy standing in a corner of the room. No horns, no tail, no hooves. Kind of anti climatic, just like the way he showed up. Okay, yes, his gaze is pretty intense, when it lands on Maggie for a moment, before it travels on to the demon, who visibly covers, and then settles on Sam to fix him with a glare.

“When I agreed to your rules, I didn’t know how much work it’d be, Sammy.”

“Not our fault your demons don’t know how to back down,” Dean butts in.

“Of course they don’t,” Lucifer shoots back. “That’s their job. May I remind you that Hell needs souls to operate?”

Maggie shivers, after all it’s her soul they’re talking about, but Dean just scowls. “Well, then work for them. Or do we have to call Michael down here, too, because you can’t stick to the rules after all?”

“Michael as in the archangel?” Maggie asks. No one pays attention to her, though. She feels kind of offended, after all this is about her, isn’t it?

“Dean,” Sam says in a warning voice. Then he turns the full force of his puppy eyes towards Lucifer. “Lucifer, can we please just get this over with?”

The smile that appears at the devil’s face at that is equal parts hot and scary. He saunters past Maggie’s salt circle without so much as looking at her and stops directly in front of Sam. “You free afterwards?”

Maggie wonders how she could ever have thought that Sam is cute, because there’s nothing cute about the smirk he gives Lucifer in return. It’s equally as hot and scary as Lucifer’s. “I am. I may or may not be in a good mood, though.”

“I appreciate the attempt of bribery of the judge, but it won’t get you anything.” Lucifer grabs Sam by the tie and pulls him in for a kiss, and Maggie is back to staring open mouthed. Holy fucking shit, they haven’t been kidding!

They only break apart, when Dean audibly clears his throat. Then Lucifer takes a few steps back and snaps a chair into existence that looks almost like a throne. He sits down with one leg draped over the armrest and looks at Maggie. Holy shit, the actual devil is looking at her. “Name?”

“I … uhm … I …”

“Maggie Conlon,” the demon that tricked her to kiss him says.

Again, Lucifer snaps his fingers, and a woman appears next to his throne. She’s tiny compared to all the giant men in the room, black hair pulled back into a business like knot. She carries a clipboard and a pen. “Yes?”

“Nichole, I need the file on Maggie Conlon.”

“Maggie Conlon coming right up.” She thumbs through the paperwork on her clipboard.

In the strained silence that follows, Dean speaks up: “Nice new hair color, Nichole.” He winks at her.

Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Could you not flirt with my assistant, Dean?”

“Could you not make out with my brother where I have to see it, Lucifer?”

For a moment they stare at each other, while Maggie watches them with concern. It’s probably not wise to start a fight with the devil, isn’t it?

“The new hair looks really great,” Sam says in a carefully friendly-neutral not flirting tone, before the bickering can go on. It still makes Lucifer turn and look at him through narrowed eyes. Maggie makes a mental note to not ever, not even accidentally say anything remotely flirty to Sam.

“Thank you,” Nichole tells him, apparently not bothered by her boss potentially getting jealous. Then she pulls a few pieces of paper from her clipboard and hands them to Lucifer. “Here you go, boss.” She mouths something that could be ‘Call me.’ to Dean, winks and vanishes again.

Maggie feels more than a bit miffed by now. This is a matter of life and death for her! She thinks everyone involved should take it more seriously! Instead they’re all acting like it’s just a normal day in the office.

Well, maybe for them it is. It definitely isn’t for her. The fucking devil reading her file gives her the creeps like nothing else.

“So, Sammy,” he finally says. “Convince me.”

Maggie holds her breath, while she realizes that her life lies in the hands of a guy who allows the devil to call him a cute nickname. She’s so fucked ...

But then Sam straightens up and suddenly appears all business-like. “When Maggie Conlon made her deal, she was under the impression it was nothing but a prank and did not actually believe in the existence of demons or hell.”

“Objection!” The demon calls, and Lucifer makes a gracious hand gesture to allow him to continue, which earns him a bitchface from Sam. How is it even fair that the devil is the judge over a trial that decides about souls going to hell?

“I told her I was a demon,” the demon goes on. “It’s not my fault she didn’t believe me.”

Lucifer turns to Sam with a grin. “That’s according to the rules, isn’t it, Sammy?”

Sam nods grudgingly. “She was also high,” he adds, though.

“According to whom?” Lucifer asks.

“According to herself.”

Maggie makes a point of nodding vigorously. Whatever gets her off the hook.

Lucifer taps his lower lip in thought. Then he looks at his demon. The guy shrugs. “She appeared sober enough to me. But yesterday I collected the soul of a guy who was also there at the time, if you want a third opinion.”

“Sam?” The devil looks at his lover and currently Maggie’s only hope. “Third opinion?”

Sam trades a look with Dean, who pulls a face. “Guy’s been in hell for a day. That’s already a few weeks hell time. Would probably say anything for a short break.”

Maggie swallows. That’s what’s waiting for her, too, isn’t it? She feels sick, when Sam shakes his head. “No thanks.”

So that’s it? She’s going to hell now?

Sam turns to her, though. “Maggie, what kind of drugs were you on?”

Can she lie? She probably should lie, should she? Maggie looks from Sam to Dean to the demon to the actual fucking devil himself.

“Don’t lie,” Sam says.

Oh well …

“I smoked a few joints. That’s probably why I kissed him, you know.” She points at the demon. “Now that I look at him again, he isn’t that cute after all.”

The demon grins at her with his twisted nightmare of a true face.

“Still only her word for it,” Lucifer says. “And we did not agree on giving people the benefit of the doubt on things like this.”

“Okay, fine ...” Sam takes a deep breath. “Maggie, anyone who can testify for your being high?”

“Apart from Dave?” Maggie swallows and shakes her head.

Lucifer chuckles. “Face it, Sammy. You’re losing this one.”

He gets a bitchface for that, so it’s probably true. Fuck. Maggie can’t help it, tears start streaming down her face. “No, please!” she begs. “I can’t go to hell for a fucking twinkie! Please!”

Sam’s head whips around at that. His face is a bit blurred by tears, but he looks positively pissed by now. “You sold your soul for a twinkie?”

Maggie stares at the salt circle around her feet and nods.

Dean laughs. “Well, that beats even Crowley.”

Maggie doesn’t even want to know what this Crowley guy sold his soul for. Instead she watches Sam turn towards Lucifer again. “Lucifer! What the hell? You knew that!”

“Of course I knew that, Sammy. It’s in her file.”

“I evoke rule seventy one paragraph three then.”

Wait … the twinkie is a loophole? Maggie dries her tears and looks at Dean. “What’s rule seventy one paragraph three?”

The other fake FBI agent shrugs. “Probably something to do with deals being invalid, if they were made for shits and giggles.”

“They are?” Maggie looks at Sam, not daring to hope yet.

“They are,” the taller man confirms, still looking at Lucifer.

The devil just shrugs. “If you catch me at it. You almost didn’t this time.”

“Because I had no time to prepare!” Sam shoots back. “I want to renegotiate that part of the rules. If we find someone right before they’re supposed to be picked up by hellhounds, I want a day preparation time for the trial.”

Lucifer purses his lips as if in thought. “Maybe. If you’re driving a good bargain.”

“So,” Maggie asks carefully. “I’m free to go?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Lucifer makes a dismissive gesture as if he’s perfectly indifferent to Maggie’s fate. He probably is. “You owe Agares here a twinkie, though.” He points towards the demon.

Maggie almost doesn’t hear the last sentence any more, she breaks down giggling hysterically. “The twinkie was a loophole.” No one she knows will ever believe this. She barely believes it herself.

* * *

Sam leaves it to Dean to see to Maggie, who seems to have some kind of breakdown. He has barely time to say his goodbyes, before Lucifer grabs him and the next thing he knows is that they’re standing in hell’s throne room.

“I don’t get why you’re always trying to save people from their own stupidity,” Lucifer grumbles and loosens Sam’s tie. “She sold her soul for a fucking twinkie, Sam. You really think she’ll do anything useful with the time you bought her?”

“It doesn’t matter what she does with her life. You had no right to take it from her.” He’s pissed. Partly at Lucifer for treating this like a game, making it more about which one of them can best the other than about the person whose soul they’re bartering over. Partly at himself, because if he’s honest he enjoys it. This one was way too easy, and he’d found himself wishing for a greater challenge. He knows it’s wrong, of course, which leaves him with a strange mix of anger and triumph that he channels into pulling down the zipper of the leather jacket Lucifer has taken up to wear nowadays and pulling the whole thing off him.

“I’m an archangel.” Lucifer smirks, while he throws Sam’s tie to the side and pulls at his suit jacket. “I have every right I want to take.”

“Arrogant asshole.” Sam shoves him back towards the throne, and Lucifer goes with it, still grinning.

“That’s how you like me, isn’t it, Sammy?”

“You could at least stop calling me Sammy in front of strangers.” The suit jacket lands on the floor behind Sam, and then Lucifer pulls Sam closer, bodies flush against each other. Sam ducks his head down and sucks a mark right above Lucifer’s collarbone.

Lucifer tilts his head back to give him better access. “But I like the horror in their faces that comes with every reminder that their only hope really is in bed with the devil.”

“You’re a menace.” They reach the throne, and Sam shoves Lucifer back on it, follows him there a moment later, half climbing onto his lap. Lucifer’s teeth scrape over the skin of Sam’s neck, while they both fumble to get the shirt of the respective other. After a moment, Lucifer loses his patience with their clothes, and a snap of his fingers has both of them naked.

Sam straddles his lap properly now, and they kiss again, still full of anger, more biting than kissing at times. At the same time, Lucifer’s hands stroke down Sam’s back, making him lean into the touch with a needy little sound.

The devil chuckles. “I’m not really sorry for being a menace, but how can I make it up to you?”

“Want to see your wings.”

“As you wish.” Lucifer straightens up a bit, grabbing Sam’s ass with both hands to hold him in place. Light floods the dimly lit throne room as he unfolds his wings.

Sam adjusts the hellhound glasses that are a bit askew on his nose by now. Through them he sees more than just the shadows of the wings. He sees them like he does the hellhounds, not quite corporal, but made of fire and light and shadows. He reaches over Lucifer’s shoulder, and feels the energy crackle over his skin, feels Lucifer shudder underneath him at the touch.

“You know, you’re a menace, too,” Lucifer says in a raspy voice. “Hell needs souls. You can’t keep them all from coming here.”

“But I can at least make you stick to the rules you agreed to.”

“See? Menace.” The archangel bites down on Sam’s shoulder, soothing the pain with a few licks afterwards. Sam cants his hips, and their erections slide together, the friction making them both moan.

When a suddenly slick finger presses against his hole, Sam draws in a startled breath, before he relaxes again. He captures Lucifer’s lips in another kiss, this time less angry and more hungry. He loses himself in it, while Lucifer opens him up.

“Enough,” he says after a while, voice wrecked already. He reaches behind him to line Lucifer’s cock up, then sinks down on it.

It burns just at the right side of painful, and Lucifer grips his hips hard, making sure that he goes slow. Finally, he bottoms out, and Sam leans his forehead against Lucifer’s shoulder for a moment, adjusting to the stretch.

When the hairs on his neck suddenly stand on end, Sam looks up to see Lucifer’s wings encircle both of them. Energy crackles over the skin of Sam’s back, and he gasps, when every nerve ending comes alive at the touch of them.

Lucifer barely gives him time to adjust to the new sensation, before he starts thrusting up.

Sam moans and starts moving to the rhythm Lucifer sets, his fingers digging into the archangel’s shoulders. They don’t try to drag it out. There’s still too much pent up aggression between them. Instead Lucifer wraps a hand around Sam’s dick and jerks him off in a counter rhythm to his thrusts, sending him over the edge in no time. Sam throws his head back when he comes, whole body tensing up and leaning back into the arch of Lucifer’s wings as he does so. That sends Lucifer over, too. He digs his fingers harder into Sam’s hips, his wings splaying wide, and Sam has to close his eyes for a moment, because the light gets too bright.

Finally Sam collapses against Lucifer, breathing hard, and the light dimes down again, when the archangel hides his wings away. Lucifer’s arms wrap around Sam, kissing the top of his head. “Sam …”

“Hm?”

“You know I only agreed to give you a shot at saving people for your sake, do you? Michael doesn’t give a shit about what happens to individual humans either. He wouldn’t have needed the demon deal rules as part of the truce. I do this for you. I want you to be happy.”

“I know.” There’s nothing left of Sam’s anger now. He just snuggles closer to Lucifer, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. Lucifer’s hand comes up and he cards his fingers through Sam’s hair.

“And you can get a day of preparation time, if you insist. But you can’t save everyone, Sammy. Some souls have to come here.”

“I know,” Sam says again. “I just feel better when it’s people that have actually done something bad.”

“Being obnoxiously stupid isn’t bad enough?”

That makes Sam chuckle. “Crimes are not rated by how much they annoy you, Lucifer.”

“They should be.”

Sam sighs. “You’re a menace.”

“You, too, Sam Winchester. You too.”


End file.
